


Faelyn's Journals

by Karyra



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Bears are not your friend, Fae has no idea what's going on, Gets sad in parts, M/M, Spoilers for everything
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-04
Updated: 2015-08-26
Packaged: 2018-03-21 05:42:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 13,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3680106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Karyra/pseuds/Karyra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Faelyn Lavellan is not known for being wise, charming or even smooth. Unfortunately for him he's about to become leader of the inquisition, regardless of preference. Thankfully he records his reluctant rise to power in his journals. Rated T for language and themes. These tend to be short fluff bits with reactions to story missions. Spoiler warnings for all story missions in DAI.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hey Maybe I'm Competent

First day at the Conclave and already things are tense. I'm glad I managed to sneak in with the servants because I don't want to deal with the mages or the templars. They both pretty much agree that elves are horrid and after talking to my Keeper I don't think they'd like me at all. Also my Keeper is gonna be mad, I cut my hair with some arrows and started binding my chest again.

He says, "we have enough to deal with, Faelyn. Stop trying to be a man when you aren't. You're going to get us killed."

If he asks I did this to disguise myself better. No one questions it because no one knows me that well and it's a relief. I have to wonder if the Keeper sent me because he doesn't like me and thinks that this thing is going to end badly. From the looks of things, I'm not so sure the Divine can fix this. I mean I get the Templar's point of view because mages are dangerous, but so am I and I have to wonder if the mages get sent to towers because they're different too. Templars seem to keep watching me when I move plates around the temple, and they sometimes snort at me when I drop the plate.

The mages seem to be more sacred when I drop things. They jump and startle more easily, like they expect the templars to act at any time. That's not the case though, the Templars just seem so… sure of what's going to happen and that they can handle it. Gods they're courageous.

Hang on I hear something in the hall. Write more tomorrow.


	2. I Have No Idea How To Do That

I can't remember what happened after the last journal except for when I woke up in a jail cell. Holy shit that was scary. These two women came in and started asking about the temple and I found out it blew up and holy shit everyone is dead. They think I did it because I crawled out of the fade a while after the explosion. There was a woman in there too and now I'm apparently the Herald of Andraste.

Okay, I need to slow down and explain what's going on better.

So I woke up in a cell after I went to look for that noise I heard. I guess whatever it was had to do with the Divine's death and the explosion at the temple of sacred ashes. This woman, Cassandra, yelled at me and honestly with those scars and the armor she was wearing I was… a little more than disconcerted. Nothing made sense and now all those people are dead and they thought it was my fault. I may screw everything up but I wouldn't kill people for nothing. However what disturbs me is that… I might have done it. I don't remember.

Anyway, I managed to to be dragged out to be shown the Breach, but also discovered that my Mark -I have a new green tear looking thing in my hand now- was also killing me whenever the Breach expanded. It hurt like… well it hurt a lot and as we marched up to the temple so I could apparently use it on the Breach.

There were so many demons. I've never seen demons before but now I was fighting demons left and right. I don't even want to imagine the other kinds of demons I'll probably have to fight later. It's so much responsibility.

As we walked up, I met two other people fighting demons. A crossbow wielding dwarf named Varric Tethras and an elf named Solas.

Varric had this air about him, like he knew he was important and that others should know it too. I tried to not ask the questions I had about the Tale of The Champion and I'm amazed that I didn't just start excitedly yelling at him and hug him for writing my favorite books ever. Thankfully the attacking demons held me back and made sure I didn't dwell too long on Varric.

Then there's Solas. I wonder if he uses some sort of wax to keep his head so shiny. And there's the fact that he knows so much about the Fade. He knows so much for a guy who dresses like a hermit. Maybe he is one, he doesn't have a clan and I haven't heard of him before. However he did help me not die from the mark while I was passed out so he can't be all that bad. I guess I'm just overreacting but he seemed to know what was going on. More than he said.

But anyway we went up and encountered Chancellor Roderick and Lelianna arguing over what to do with me.

Lelianna scares me more than Cassandra does. It's her quiet way of moving, its seriously so quiet that she moved behind me and I had to not jump when she talked about the scouts in the mountains. I know that I should have gone with the soldiers but what if they noticed? I could feel my makeshift binder shifting and hurting. I couldn't take it off yet, so I went up to the mountain path and managed to get away from Cassandra long enough to readjust it and take a breath from all the monsters for a moment. I'm just glad they can't take my face and pretend to be me. They might be better at it than I am.

Anyway we got up to the temple after saving the scouts and holy shit there was huge floating green crystal. That spawned a giant demon that knocked out Solas in a few blows. I mainly focused on closing the crystal like the others so I could leave and go home away from the insanity.

I woke up three days after sealing the stupid thing to a screaming elf servant. I haven't gone outside yet but someone removed my binder while I was sleeping. Thankfully a better one was left for me on the table and I decided to grab the journal I keep with me and write in it before I head up to the chantry here.

Wish me luck and I hope they don't decide to hang me.


	3. Oh Mythal There Are Bears Everywhere

Good news! Only the Chancellor from earlier wants me dead!

Which is a step up from everyone wanting me dead so that's something, let me tell you. However I did spend a large amount of time helping people and avoiding talking to Cassandra while she and the Chancellor spoke.

Turns out Adaan -Adan?- was the one responsible for the binder and taking care of me. There was a lot of awkward standing there talking and explanations that I didn't want to go into, but he gave me some health potions, a potion for my voice so I didn't, "sound like a ten year old", and asked me to look for some notes. I don't think he likes me very much.

Threnn is an interesting lady, I spent an hour helping her before she realized I was the Herald. I moved boxes around, looked for iron, and stumbled on an abandoned logging camp near an old house. I even found some notes for Adan inside that he appreciated me giving to him. Adan also kicked me out after I almost knocked down a shelf of potions onto myself.

Some Herald of Andraste huh? I don't even believe in the lady as the bride but... I admire her deeds. Cassandra seemed upset that I didn't believe in the Maker, so I didn't press the issue. Lelianna seems to hold him in high regard but I prefer my people's way of thinking of gods. Just as flawed and horrible as you are. At least then they're closer to you in some way.

All this talk of the Chantry and holy wars is giving me a headache, and every time I see a little kid call me the Herald I melt a bit inside. More people keep flocking here to see me and to escape the mage templar conflict. I'm just sad that they're going to leave disappointed. I'm not some great hero in this war like Solas and I joked about, I'm just a dumb kid swept up in these events.

I haven't told anyone but sometimes I stick my fingers into the Mark. It's tingly and kind of fun to see how much I and push through. Unfortunately I had a close call when I decided to stick my tongue into it, Cassandra walked by and I had to casually play it off but I think she bought it. At the very least she didn't question it.

Once arrangements were done Varric, Solas, Cassandra, and I headed out to the Hinterlands to find some priestess from the Chantry who wanted to talk to me. Through Cassandra's ability to read maps we all managed to get to the camp in one piece. Good thing I told her I can't read, otherwise we would have been lost for much longer.

I kept the party entertained by using my skills at ventriloquism, which didn't go over so well with Solas when I made his food start 'talking' to him. He thought it was a spirit at first and threw it to the ground. I got lectured for about an hour on why it wasn't proper for the Herald of Andraste to be startling mages and that was a terrible idea.

Varric slipped me five gold to do it again at a later date, preferably to Cassandra.

The walk to the Hinterlands was short and when we arrived I met scout Harding. Varric made a cheesy joke she didn't get and we fought Templars and mages. It was eerie, because I knew a few of the mages and templars from the Conclave. I guess a few managed to get away, and for a moment I thought they recognized me too.

I feel bad for having to kill them, and it was much easier to deal with demons -even with how ugly they were. At least then I didn't have to look them in the eye and see someone I knew. Not well, but I still knew them.

After the fight I talked to Mother Giselle, who is a very nice lady who I'd like to talk to more often. She still calls me the Herald, but I like her. She's wise and worse comes to worse I could do with worse advice from better sources. After I talked to her I started to trek over to Horse Master Dennet. After talking to everyone it was getting dark so I set up a small camp nearby to rest for the night. I wandered off to hunt for some rams only to slide down the cliff I was standing on.

The landing was soft. However it was soft because I was literally hugging the rear end of a bear. I scrambled away and screamed all the way back to camp for Cassandra. I'm pretty sure she's meaner than any bear. Once I crossed the threshold into camp she glared at it and I swear to the Dread Wolf that the bear freaking flinched.

We had bear for dinner.

Also I made an offhand comment about the Dread Wolf not even wanting to eat the bear and Solas seemed to perk up at the mention. He must be a minion for the Dread Wolf. I'm not longer sharing my food with him until she tells me which clan he belongs to and I can get Lelianna to confirm it through her network.

I have to go to Val Royeaux soon and talk to the Chantry. Why did I have to be picked for this I'm just lucky if I don't cause in interracial incident when I visit shemlen towns with my clan.

Then again, I don't remember anything about visiting any shem villages despite my clan being very shem friendly. I think this has to do with my memory loss from the Temple of Sacred Ashes, but I can't tell Cassandra this or she'll freak out like she always does. I'm not sure but I think Cassandra has a crush on me, but I'm more afraid that she'll just crush me when she finds out that the one she's pinning her hopes on is a moron who is only good at making fish talk to you.


	4. Diplomatic Relations Are Not My Strong Suit

Well that was a bust. I mean I suppose that it. I don’t really know how these things are supposed to go. Shem politics are a mystery at best and I always wondered how my Keeper managed to keep any of us in line. Sure sometimes with was at staffpoint but regardless.

This was... I don’t know what it was. I tried to appeal to the Templars but ended up with it thrown in my face and told that elves were horrid and whatnot. I’m... not sure I believe I’m the Herald but these people... I know what fear looks like and it was in their eyes.

I promised peace and restoration, even if I don’t believe in the Maker and Andraste. Heck most of the time I’m pretty sure Mythal is the one setting up this path for me, and she’s laughing all along the way. After the meeting I talked to a few clerics and nearly got my head shot off by an arrow with a strange message about red in places. I barely managed to find some items stuffed in a red sock before I was handed an invitation to a salon.

What in Fen’harel’s name is a Salon?

I found out it’s a fancy party held by a bunch of nobles and and stare at paintings and also pick fights. I nearly had a to duel a man when this mage woman froze him and then asked what I wanted to do with him. I had to stand there for a few minutes in abject surprise and terror while I tried to figure it out. Ultimately I let him go, not wanting more blood on my hands.

Madame De Fur -Fare?- Vivienne was very nice and polite but there were cold steel to her words, a sort of nonchalance about life and fighting and politics. For a woman in a mask she looked uncomfortable and uptight, as though slouching meant pain. Eye contact was never broken when I asked her about her life and found that she is really quite smart. Even if I’m not sure what I should say about mages yet. We parted with her in tow as we went to some shady alleyway where a man against the Inquisition was waiting.

And I almost got my head blown off by a bunch of fire balls.

Cassandra started laughing when my hair caught fire from one of them. Stupid hair. Or maybe it was the elf woman who ran down the stairs, yelled something nonsenical, and shot the guy in his face. It was a nice shot, don’t get me wrong, but all the same she kind of looked at me in disgust when she saw that I was an elf. Something about being ‘too elfy’ and she was all over the place. I swear if she’d ever sat still she’d just explode.

She seems a decent sort though, not someone excessively cruel or whatever. She just fights for people who need it, like the peasants and the farmers. I could use them on my side more than the nobles to be honest. I’m getting tired of the glares wherever I go.

Sera’s comment on my ‘elfyness’ was quite irritating in fact. However I find her opinions refreshing. She’s not hard and fast for the mages or templars. I think I understand why, I don’t find either side appealing to be honest, but I know I have to pick one and somehow still support the other. Why was I chosen for this when I don’t understand Shem politics or their ways of doing things. All I know is that something was wrong with Lambert -I’m not using his title, the ass- and I need to investigate.

Josephine is always worrying about me, and I wish she’d stop. I know how to handle myself. Regardless of how many times I’ve been sent to Adan. I mean it’s not like I’m trying to get myself hurt, it’s just that whenever I bring Cassandra anywhere I seem to only find bears attacking me.

I’m starting to think that Solas is the only one with secrets to do with animals. Honestly, that elf is too strange. He doesn’t even have any Vallaslin for all he says that he grew up in a clan. He also has disdain for them but holds up ancient elven traditions.

I’m pretty sure now that he works for Fen’harrel and will no longer be sharing too much about my life with him. If I do I’m afraid that he will take me to the Dred Wolf himself and kill me. Like my Keeper said that he would if the Dread Wolf ever found out that I dress as a man. Either way, I should be careful around Solas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the wait but I've been bouncing between games lately. Next up is the Templar's mission.


	5. I Hate The Storm Coast

Met a guy named Krem today. He gave us a message, shot me a wink, and left. I calmly explained that I needed to meet these mercenaries personally and may or may not have heard Cassandra laugh very loudly after I leaned on the war table and almost knocked over every piece we had on there. Once I helped Lelianna put them back in place, I explained about Krem and the message.

“So we just need to go to the Storm Coast.” I added in a smile with a careful lean on the wartable.

Lelianna, still laughing at me, agreed and sent her scouts ahead to see what was going on in the Storm Coast before I could go. She even rubbed my head and walked out like it was some joke she had with herself. Cassandra and the others left too. As they left I noticed a small letter sitting near where Josephine usually stands when the war table is called. I picked it up and noticed that it was started in elven, and a quick check revealed that it was my keeper. But... the letter I got back from her wasn’t this one, and the handwriting was different.

I couldn’t bear to read it for more than a few lines. There was no way that my keeper wrote that, because I don’t remember...

I don’t remember what else happened the day she sent me to the conclave.

I’m worried I’m forgetting things that are important for some reason -maybe the Mark is to blame- so I’ve tried to do better for this journal. I need to record everything so I can remember it. I have to remember it, because from the looks of things I might be able to leave after the Breach is closed. I have to find answers in my clan because my keeper will know.

If she still wants to talk to me that is.

 

Once we arrived at the Storm Coast I saw why it was called thus. In about five seconds, Cassandra’s, Vivienne’s, and my makeup started to run due to the rain and we looked like the crazed bandits we hunted down later. Uh, more on those bandits later.

It didn’t take long for us to find the skirmish on the beach with the Chargers. They had it well in hand, but I figured that loosing a few arrows to impress them with my own personal skills wouldn’t hurt either. Soon enough the Tevinter guys were cleared out and I found myself impressed by the fact that Krem -Cremsisuis Aclassi is his full name- was able to swing around a huge maul like that. In fact, upon closer inspection I noticed that it was a dragonling skull that had been bolted onto a stick.

The Iron Bull made fun of me, slapping me on my back and asking if I enjoyed the view. I may or may not have mumbled yes. He laughed harder. Then we talked logistics for a few minutes, he told me he was basically a Qunari spy. That sounds really cool. I wish I had the skillset to be a spy like Bull. Don’t think I could pull off the horns, though.

Afterwards, I took Bull with me to deal with the bandits that had been attacking the Inquisition’s men and defeated their leader with his help. He wasn’t kidding when he said that he could help us on the battlefield with fighting. The man knows his way around a sledgehammer that’s taller than I am. That’s not a euphemism for anything, by the way. Bull is nice but I don’t think I like him like that.

Also last night her offered to ‘help me relieve some of my stress’ and I banned him from ever entering my tent. Vivienne stared him down until he understood that I wasn’t up for it. Bless Vivienne, I didn’t want him to know. I don’t think any of them know yet, and for that I’m grateful. Unfortunately, I underpacked Adan’s potions for me, so I have to fake it all the way back. It’s kind of strange that I went from not having this potion to having it and I sound almost spoiled that I have it now.

Although... most of my memories aren’t of faking my voice. I remember...

Ngh. Head hurts, and I’m already out of my binder so I should turn in early for the night. Before some huge catastrophe hits us in the morning.


	6. Turn For The Worse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This a long part with lots of sadness. I've worked to get to a point where I can pump these parts out quickly. Thank you for reading and bookmarking!
> 
> Warnings: This chapter contains implications of Fae seeing himself dead (mostly from the Templar Mission), a long bout of depression, mentions of child abuse, suicidal thoughts, and a suicide attempt. If you are not comfortable with this please do not read.
> 
> Don't worry, Fae will be okay.

He needs it written, because then the memories can’t slip away like the rest. Where do they go though, when they slip away? Is it because of the Mark, he thinks, or is it worse? He knows that it is worse.

Day 1  
Patient arrived unconscious, and was believed to still be suffering from an attack by an Envy demon. Further queries revealed that the attack was mostly mental and there is no evidence that he was hit in the head and we’re still checking for poison. He is stable for now and isn’t thrashing like Adan said he did last time he was like this.

Was informed by crazed elf woman that I had to write in the journal for him. Said it was important but not why. I have been elected to stay by the Herald’s side until he wakes and to ensure that he is mentally stable. After flipping through the journal I discovered that the Herald is biologically female. Will continue to treat him as though he was male however, as there seems to be signs of older trama perhaps from the hands of his Keeper that may be related to this. Too many scars to be from fighting demons and hunting.

There was someone- I thought I saw movement but it was just the shadows. The Breach has everyone jumpy lately. The lack of the Herald ensures it.

Day 2  
Still unconcious. Uncertain as to how to best approach changing his clothes. Will distress patient when discovered that someone changed him and removed binder. I decided to remove binder for his safety already so I undressed him and made sure room is locked to everyone. Even the Seeker. Seeker Pentaghast was not thrilled by this decision. The elf woman is worse in other ways, however. She keeps trying to unlock the door, so I find myself by the Herald’s side quite often.

Is it tiring being such an important figure? Or was there something he saw that made it so much worse? He’s been mumbling something the last few hours, but show no other signs of waking. Is it me or is there someone else here, watching and waiting? I’m crazy, I shut everyone out for a reason.

Day 3  
He woke up. Briefly. Not sure I have time to write today outside of this.

Day 4  
Herald still out of it, awake sometimes but mostly still incoherent. Screamed and cried for an hour straight then fell asleep. Barely managed to get him food and water a few minutes ago. Says that he’s not sure what’s real anymore. Begged to die before, he said, “before I become a monster.”

Unsure of his meaning. Might ask later. Went to Adan about Herald and treatment. Adan said he already knows about it. Says that they have materials for a potion. Didn’t specify. Still feel watched.

Day 5  
Patient awake. Clung to leg most of day asking to die. Whatever he saw was bad, but convinced him to eat and take the potion Adan gave me. He’s sleeping peacefully now, but is facing wall and bunched blanket up around him. His yelling and sobbing attracted the attention of his companions and also the advisors. They’re demanding to see him, or at the very least Seeker Pentagast is. I’ll have to figure something out soon, or they’ll be knocking down my door. The crazed elf woman was the worst as she was nowhere to be found, which made me think she snuck in at some point while I was gone. Unsure if she did anything, however.

Still did not have nearly enough time between that and when I discovered that the patient had taken an arrow from somewhere and was about to use it to hurt himself. I managed to stop him, but this latest turn only proves that perhaps seeing others will snap him out of this. He might never recover, or he might with more time. However, need to move quick to get patient back to full health at least so he can seal the Breach. Mind healing takes time, but will be necessary.

I worry about the state of the patient. The fact that I found him thrashing before waking and then this latest episode... what happened at Therinfall Redoubt?

Day 6  
Granted access to patient. Had no choice as Seeker Pentaghast was insistent and Adan said it would be good for the patient. Remained in his room during all the visits. Advisor Cullen was the first to come, with pastries and sweets, strangely enough. He entered, left the sweets near Faelyn, and left. Asked Advisor Josephine where he had gotten them when she entered, Haven barely can make bread at the best of times, she said that she often sent them to Cullen and he requested extra this time. Advisor Josephine was quiet, and did not say much to the patient.

I believe that the patient- the Herald, was awake for these visits. He didn’t say anything. the Nightingale arrived, asked about his condition and if I needed anything to treat him, then left. Not sure what this means.

Seeker Pentaghast was first in after the advisors. Apparently, there was an order for visiting set up. Possibly by Josephine. Will ask later, maybe. Seeker Pentaghast asked him if he was okay and if he needed anything. Said that Envy was a tough demon to face down, that the fact that he was not replaced was amazing in itself. Very much truth to the statement. Herald moaned and pulled blankets tighter to self. Seeker Pentaghast got frustrated and said that they had to seal the Breach now. Pushed her out.

Iron Bull next. He barely fit through the doorframe but somehow made it. Gave him this strange drink. Called it choc late. Never heard of it but Fae rolled over to grab it and drink it. Apparently, he liked it.

Sera just took the journal, thanked me, read it, and then put it back. Said that he can’t lose himself. Not fair.

Solas watched from doorway, but left soon after.

Vivenne was the most encouraging I think. No gifts but sat with Herald and quietly talked to him. I gave them space. Wonder if she sees him like a son. Might be.

Varric gave him books. Noticed Tale of The Champion and Hard in Hightown in the stack. Herald seemed to by this point to be better. Might talk to Herald tomorrow.

Quiet moment where he asked if I knew. I said yes. Herald asked if anyone else did. I said I did not know. Said I had suspicion that Sera knows.

Day 7  
Herald tried to walk. Left very weak after so much time in bed. Believe that he’s trying to get up and fight again. Good sign, promising. Talked with him some. Said writing in journal during his sickness. He said that he was better, that as soon as the Breach is sealed he doesn’t have to worry about it.

Asked what ‘it’ was.

Herald described the vision he saw from Envy demon. Said that he saw himself dead or using the Inquisition to hurt people. Like the old one. He was shaking at end of description.

Told him that Envy wanted to be him for a reason. Said that what he saw was the Envy demon’s fear of him. Fear that he would destroy this ‘Elder One’ and defeat Envy as well. Said that Herald was very brave for facing this fear and he was tougher than he gives self credit for. Herald said that he was always fighting somehow.

 

He is good at fighting, always fighting. It’s his face, but the demon wears the body he wishes for. Always fighting for the right words, ‘he’ not what the keeper calls him. The correct words are kept from him, he goes first into anywhere they go. He gets the worst of the humans to deal with.

Small but smart. Man but pretends to be a girl. Hide under the cover of a dress, keep your mouth shut! They pretend to not hear him speak from under the folds of the fan he is forced to carry. They know he is smarter than they are. He knows this too but is too afraid to speak up again. The scars are not healed.


	7. Farewell To My Haven

Haven is... it’s... Haven’s gone. It hurts to write, in more ways than one. Mostly though, it’s just physical right now. So, where do I start? Probably after I managed to pull myself together enough to try and attempt the Breach.

Well, that was about three days before we actually marched on the Breach. I was still reeling from Therinfall. I... I never knew about Envy demons, and how close I came to becoming my own worst nightmare. I didn’t want to be a part of the Inquisition anyway, all I wanted was just to quietly be in the background of advise someone else to do this stuff. I’m not leadership material, if I was I would have been the First to my Keeper. Also if I was a mage. Mostly the leader thing, though.

So... I didn’t know I had become such a symbol to the people and that I’d become so close to the people I worked with. I was shocked to see them all arrive when I was... when I was ill. Even Solas was nearby, but that doesn’t really count for much as he just lurked in the doorway the whole time. I didn’t think that...

Anyway, I should move on from then. I had gotten up and was ready to end this nonsense once and for all, and I ignored the growing concern that had settled into my stomach that the Inquisition’s purpose had been served and would shortly be disbanded. It didn’t matter, I thought, they were just friends I could letter about later on. I’m still not used to so many people following me like this. Herald or not, I still have the Mark and I have to lead them. For as long as I can, anyway.

Shortly after we started to celebrate our victory over the Breach, there were explosions coming from the gate, and as we approached someone ordered us to open it. I opened it, and discovered a mage had been fighting some people who were called ‘Venatori’. Is it weird that he looked really good while he was dispatching crazed Tevinter cultists? Probably. Ignore me. Back to the attack, I managed to drive them back for a while, and I used an avalanche to do so. Things were looking up, but that was when the dragon attacked. It looked like it was nothing but skin and bones held together through whatever blood magic conjured it. 

The quick retreat back to the Chantry bought us some time and Chancellor Roderick said that he knew a path through the mountain to get us away from the attack and the dragon without letting them get caught. He was wounded, maybe a bit delirious, but the Tevinter mage offered to carry him and they left. I wanted to say something else, because I thought I might not make it back from firing the trebuchet to cause another avalanche onto Haven. So did everyone else.

I had to though, because waiting was not a choice. I went out and managed to prime the thing, and when the rest of the people had cleared out, I was going to fire it. However, the dragon knocked away the rest of my group and I was left alone to face it down. Except that was when a monster appeared, made from what appeared to be red lyrium and horror. He grabbed me, threatened me, and then said he could try and remove the Mark.

I told him to take it, that I didn’t want it anyway. He tried, but it was permanent now, for whatever reason. There was more talking, but I wasn’t listening. Instead I looked pretty awesome and managed to fire the trebuchet. I remember running, then falling.

I woke up in some tunnels under Haven by some miracle. It was a long, cold walk back. I remember some warm embers and then yelling before I woke up in camp. I want to do nothing more than help Cassandra and the others, but from what Mother Giselle told me, I have broken ribs and need to heal.

That doesn’t stop me from writing, however. Need to write in this. This memory is an important one. I need to remember when they saw me fall so I don’t do it again. I need to ask Solas a way of recovering my other memories later. He knows a lot about the mark and (there is a sharp line)  
Shit. Pain. Need to stop before morning.

Sera. Stop reading my journal and giving it to the recruits. I know it’s you.

 

There is snow and pain. The cold numbs the pain. Have to make it back somehow. They’re waiting. Need to pull off another miracle. They need it more than me. The red monster is waiting at the base of the mountain. They need hope.


	8. I am Left To Lead the Inquisition

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the lateness of this chapter. I recently rediscovered Final Fantasy Ten. Which means that yesterday and the day before I marathoned playing it before I went to work. Let me tell you, that didn't make my productive at all. Thanks for reading, anyway!
> 
> Warnings for character death and some survivor's guilt. Nothing too bad this time around but here you go.

I dreamed of Minaeve again. She had been back at Haven, tied to the fire pots that had appeared seemingly overnight. I never knew what they were or their purpose. But Minaeve and Adan had been tied to them or something and the fire was approaching rapidly. I managed to cut Adan free, and moved on to save Minaeve. I thought that I could do it, but the blast knocked me off my feet and into the nearby shack.

I reached for her, saying something. Everything was burning and on fire. I thought that I could still save her, but Cassandra dragged me back to the Chantry, saving a few more along the way. Cassandra just kept saying the same thing over and over.

There’s nothing you can do for her now.

I don’t know, if I’d been faster, or maybe if I’d just checked on her and Adan first then maybe... It’s my fault. What kind of chosen one can I be if I can’t save everyone? Why did they make me Inquisitor? I’m not nearly good enough to save Minaeve. Her Tranquil replacement stares at me whenever I drop by to see how Dorian is settling in and borrow a book or two.

Which is far too often, and I notice her stare every time. I know that the Tranquil don’t feel anything, but I know she’s accusing me, thinking that next time that Darkspawn jerk visits that she’ll be next.

Solas and I have been having regular chats about the Fade, and... we saved a spirit too. I guess saved is the wrong word. We... we stopped mages from abusing the spirit that we tried to save. It reminded me of Minaeve, how... how all I could do was sit there and watch her body burn away as I was pulled from the wreckage.

I should feel bad, lock myself in my room and refuse to come out until I can somehow forget that image. I don’t think I ever will forget that image though, it’s almost as permanent as the burn marks I got when I tried to save her. I saved as many as I could, though. It has to be good enough, and next time I see Corypheus, I have an arrow for his face. Maybe also a few words for him as well.

In the midst of all the recent happenings, I got a letter addressed to me. It was a plain scroll with my name written in messy, childish handwriting on the side. It was an invitation to something called The Black Emporium. A quick meeting ensured that going was the right decision. Even if I didn’t say exactly what was in the letter.

Won’t say what it said here either, because Sera will yell at me. All I’ll say here is that I think I have a chance at something I’ve always wanted. It’s hard to even think that I might be close to that, and I kind of wonder why I want it too. Like, I know the reasoning, but I don’t have the memories of why I came to this conclusion.

It’s werid. My memory is often time reliable, especially after the Conclave. But before that? It’s like someone made it into holey cheese. Riddled with blank spots and empty spaces, and feelings about things that I don’t understand. Phobias about the dark and the small spaces that seem to not be a part of Skyhold, but littered Haven. The cells below the chantry gave me the creeps. They were dark and wet, and somehow I always wondered what would have happened if I had been locked inside those cages.

I suspect I would either scream for a long time, or maybe just shut down. Be like how I was after Therinfall. Just... stop everything. Freeze in that moment, and be unable to move past it. Truth be told, I’ve been having nightmares lately. Hazy memories, brief flashes of Therinfall, and the latest, Minaeve’s death. How do I move on from that? Do I just pretend that none of it ever happened?

Maybe I could use if as fuel to move forward or something cheesy like that. I don’t know. Maybe I’ll think about it on the trip up to Kirwall. Might even solve the mysteries of the Mark while I’m there.

Who am I kidding? This guy sells stuff. Glamours, epic weapons, and certainly not answers. It would be too easy if he did.

 

He doesn’t sleep anymore. He tosses and turns, reliving the fires again. Just one more time, he says, if he could do it just one more time he could save her. Everything hurts, and why won’t it go away. Just go away! Don’t trust me I can’t remember anything anymore! It’s all just slipping away before my eyes... friends are memories now, getting hazy around the edges.


	9. Hearts Burn Brightly...

Hangovers suck. However, I have to power through it to record what happened in the last few days, or I think I might forget. I know most of what happened at the bar the night before is completely gone, but that’s not anyone’s fault except my own. I guess I can hold my liquor pretty well, I nearly outdrank Dorian, but if anyone asks, I totally did. He fell off the chair before I did so I'm counting that as a win. I’m getting ahead of myself, though. Again.

It all started shortly after we returned from the Exalted Plains. We’d just slain another group of Venatori and Dorian was grateful, but it was late and we were attempting to retire for the night. Even Iron Bull was tired from the quick jaunt out and back. There wasn’t much we could do out there yet, as we just didn’t have the influence to end some of the fighting, and we didn’t even know where to begin. Undead in ramparts, a Dalish clan that needed help, ruins with more Venatori, and a giant dragon lurking to the north.

There was no way we could tackle any of that with a bunch of arrows and swords. Or at least our current ones at any rate. As I dragged my sore muscles and aching legs to my quarters, I was stopped by Mother Giselle. Something about a letter to Dorian, and how he was estranged from his family. I said I’d tell him and she stopped me. An excuse that perhaps he needed to see his family and thus somehow a surprise was the best option. Even my tired brain could figure out that Dorian and his family was a tricky situation and fooling Dorian into meeting the retainer was a bad idea. At worst it meant being burnt by magical fire, and at best it meant that Vivienne would be disappointed in me if I just too Mother Giselle at face value.

Vivienne had been trying to teach me the importance of seeing between the lines and how to deal with people from the court. It was going to be necessary whenever we attended the ball or whatever, so whenever possible I got etiquette lessons from Vivienne. I never knew that there could be so many spoons.

I took the letter and sensed malice or at the very least, ill intent among the words. I didn’t like it, and decided to show Dorian the letter as soon as I could. If he didn’t want to go, then we didn’t have to go. However, I was tired and left the letter on my nightstand shortly before collapsing into unconsciousness. My last sight was that of the letter on the nightstand, and I felt my heart flutter at the facts that I’d just learned fro Mother Giselle. It recalled a fuzzy memory, but the more I tried to pull it into clarity, the more my head hurt. I abandoned it in favor of a dream where I could fly. Less painful for me that way.

The morning greeted me with a vengeance, and I wanted nothing more than to curl up under the covers for real and ignore it. Alas, I got a wake up call in the form of Josephine, who is nothing short of terrifying when she decides that I need to be awake. I was tossed out of the sheets and into the before I could even try to say five more minutes. I was just thankful that I managed to snag the letter on the way out. I held it in my hands, carefully shifting it around as I debated whether or not I was doing the right thing, even as I climbed up the stairs to Dorian’s corner of the library. I turned the corner and there was Dorian, asleep in the giant chair near the window, a book plastered to his face and papers for his blanket. It didn’t take a detective to figure that he’d spent the night there, researching. I couldn’t remember a time when he wasn’t here in the library or out drinking. It was usually the former, so it made me wonder where exactly he slept.

He awoke with a start and papers flew everywhere, and I had just enough grace to dodge the book as it sailed past me and onto the floor. I... might have laughed a bit at the absurdity of Dorian’s not so graceful awakening. There was a bit of banter between us before Dorian noticed the letter.

The result was... exactly to be expected. He yelled and made comments about his father and the letter, with a follow up request to meet the retainer at The Gull & Lantern Tavern. I relented and arranged for our travel plans to change and head instead to Redcliffe. Well, it was more that I decided that we were going there and no one else but Dorian and myself knew because if Josephine knew she’d blow a gasket knowing that we weren’t going to Crestwood to meet up with the Warden or whatever.

As I headed out, I saw Krem out of the corner of my eye. He was standing just outside the tavern, trying to play it cool before a young waitress walked out and into him. Krem smiled and helped to clean it up, and I noticed that a blush was across his cheeks. I felt a little disappointed, but Iron Bull thumped me on the back, laughed and helped usher me towards the gate where Dorian was waiting anxiously.

Even though I was a little crushed that Krem didn’t see me in that way, I remembered this morning and smiled a little. I wasn’t too hopeful about Dorian and myself as a pair, but it felt a little less bad that I’d lost my crush and I guess he noticed my heartbreak because he’d made a joke about the waitress not being his type and that the Inquisitor could do better than that anyway.

As soon as we were far enough out of Skyhold I told the rest of the group about the change of plans. Dorian didn’t react, Iron Bull told me that he knew all along, and Cassandra made a disgusted noise.

The trip felt shorter than it actually was, and soon enough we’d arrived. Bull and Cassandra stayed behind, doing small errands in Redcliffe while Dorian and I made for the tavern. We stopped at the door and I told Dorian we could still turn back if he wanted. He said that he was too committed now, he said in a light voice. I could hear fear creep in at the edges, though.

He opened the door and for a minute, there was no one there. Before I could say that the retainer probably left, a man with dark hair and Tevinter robes entered the room. Dorian called him Father. Dorian seemed agitated, and I wanted to leave. Dorian agreed, but we didn’t leave. The Magister said we should stay and talk things out.

Dorian said that his father tried to change him from whom he was back in Tevinter.

It happened in a blur. One second, I was still in the entryway of the tavern, and the next I was standing over a knocked down Magister who was nursing a bloody nose. I was hysterical, screaming at him, and Dorian managed to pull me back and out of the tavern before I did something more that I could regret.

Dorian asked me why I did that and I said I couldn’t tell him why except that it was wrong. That how dare he try to change his son and that the Magister was apparently a son of an inbred nug. Cassandra dragged me away to go hit bandits while Bull stayed behind with Dorian.

I didn’t really look back to see how Dorian was doing, and I didn’t know until the party returned to Skyhold, where I remembered that I’d gotten a book from Dorian and I wanted to return it. I walked up the stairs with trepedation, worried that he wouldn’t be there. He was, however, and staring out the window onto the castle yard beyond.

I placed the book down and was about to leave when Dorian greeted me with a short, terse word. He also asked why I did that. I answered that it wasn’t right of his father to do that. To use blood magic to change him without his permission. No body should have the power over another person. Dorian agreed with me. I asked him if he was all right and he said it wasn’t something that being at the bar couldn’t cure.

I was about to leave when he caught my arm and asked if I minded that he prefered the company of other men. I really didn’t know how to reply, so I went with that I understood how it felt. Dorian didn’t let me go, and tried to pull me closer. I complied, turning awkwardly and nearly breaking the moment as I turned into the grip and awkwardly tried to switch arms. It was good to see Dorian laugh after what had happened, and I missed that Dorian, the one with a joke and a snide remark when things were frantic. I leaned in a little, and he met me halfway.

I didn’t know that I’d really wanted to kiss him until that moment, and when it finally happened, I was overjoyed. I couldn’t stop smiling, and I guess the grin was infectious because we rested our foreheads on each other’s and just stood there smiling like fools. Dorian broke away, letting go of my arm and saying that he needed a drink. I told him that I’d meet him there, and that was what led to the drinking contest. I can’t remember anything after the fifth or sixth drink, but from what Bull told me, I won. Apparently, Dorian just fell off the stool and I won by default. Then I fell off the stool.

Honestly, I hope that I remember that moment where Dorian and I kissed forever. I don’t want to lose that memory like the others.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally motivated myself to finish this journal and it ended up being the longest one yet. I don’t know how I managed that. This will precede Into The Abyss, so I’m not ready for that chapter to wreck me yet. Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy! I'll see you all soon with the next chapter, and thanks for reading.


	10. ...Just Before They Break

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So uh, ta-da. I managed to write another long chapter. It's kinda cheesy I think so take as you see fit I guess. I was going to let him wallow but I think we’re nearing the end so I guuuesss he can be happy.  
> Warnings for:  
> Implied child abuse, abuse, emotional abuse, and some suicidal thoughts.

Ԁɹoʇǝɔʇ ʇɥǝɯ ʇo ʞᴉll ʎonɹsǝlɟ˙  
Protect them to kill yourself.Protect them to kill yourself.Protect them to kill yourself.Protect them to kill yourself.Protect them to kill yourself.Protect them to kill yourself.Protect them to kill yourself.Protect them to kill yourself.Protect them to kill yourself.Protect them to kill yourself.Protect them to kill yourself.Protect them to kill yourself.Protect them to kill yourself.Protect them to kill yourself.Protect them to kill yourself.Protect them to kill yourself.Protect them to kill yourself.Protect them to kill yourself.Protect them to kill yourself.Protect them to kill yourself.Protect them to kill yourself.Protect them to kill yourself.Protect them to kill yourself.Protect them to kill yourself.Protect them to kill yourself.Protect them to kill yourself.Protect them to kill yourself.Protect them to kill yourself.Protect them to kill yourself.Protect them to kill yourself.Protect them to kill yourself.Protect them to kill yourself.Protect them to kill yourself.Protect them to kill yourself.Protect them to kill yourself.Protect them to kill yourself.Protect them to kill yourself. 

.flesruoy llik ot meht tcetorP

˙ɟlǝsɹnoʎ ʇɔǝʇoɹd oʇ ɯǝɥʇ llᴉʞ  
Kill them to protect yourself.

(Excerpt from a 5 page entry of more of the same.)

I remember.

I remember everything that I was missing. I should start there, I think. I was born in clan Lavellan. The Keeper was never fond of me, but especially so after I started to go into town in ‘disguise’. She said that the Shems were just going to make it worse then they found out that they’d been duped. She was right. However, they never stopped sending me into town for materials and to sell what we needed. Once all the mages broke loose I was the only one to go into town. Even before then, she made sure that I always returned how she saw me. A woman on the outside to her. Always it would be her way.

Disobedience was not an option. I’m not sure it was ever an option. Ever since they’d heard about blood magic wiping out a clan her fears were realized and the clan was held under her iron rule. We obeyed quietly, but I suppose I was the only one that by providence was blessed by Dirthamen. God of secrets and twin brother to the god of death. I tried to be myself in secret, but it never lasted. I became an example. I was banned from being healed by magic and was allowed only potions when I behaved.

She also said that I was lucky to be in her clan, because if I’d been in another they would have forced me to be male by blood magic. She said that soon Fen’harel would come after me and destroy me. She told me that she loved me and would protect me forever. I was foolish enough to believe her every poisonous word.

Protect them to kill yourself.

Perhaps that’s why when she said someone had to go to Conclave to see what was to happen next, I volunteered. I was excited at the prospect of being too far away from her to feel her wrath at me using my disguise again. Maybe it’s why the Nightmare took away all of the bad memories of my clan. Maybe I wanted to forget the stories of every scar I’d ever received at her hand, or maybe I just wanted to forget myself entirely.

Kill them to protect yourself.

How I remember was not how anyone wants to recall anything. The feeling was nothing short of falling asleep only to jerk awake suddenly because of a dream which eludes your grasp. It all started with Hawke, who was a nice enough guy, but continued with Stroud saying that we needed to go to Adamant Fortress. It sat on the cusp of darkness that was the chasm which held darkspawn within its depths. The fight between us and the Wardens put me at unease. A lot of good men died fighting the Grey Wardens.

I thought the Grey Wardens were the good guys. I thought a lot of things were what they were supposed to be. I was wrong. Wrong wrong wrong. I screwed it all up by hoping too much for the Wardens to think for themselves and ended up fighting and killing so many of them. More lives in my hands. I wanted to go home, away from responsibility. I didn’t want to be the Inquisitor or the Herald or even Faelyn anymore. I... I didn’t want them to know that I was secretly a sham that was just pretending.

Which made it all the more difficult that when I fell into the Fade that I remembered. The small orb I found while the others went ahead contained all of the memories of home. I remembered everything that I’d ever wanted to forget and I wanted nothing more to give it all back. That was when Dorian called for me.

Protect them to kill yourself.

I had no choice to look back now was too dangerous. We’d ended up in the Fade and what happened before was just that. I pushed past it and stuffed it down to cope with later. I caught up with the rest of the group and Iron Bull and Cole seemed about as distressed as I was. I saw nothing but ruins of Aravels and dead halla before us. However, I put on a glad face and held my bow tight as we formed the plan to escape the Fade. Face down the Nightmare and escape through the tear beyond it.

It was a lot of fighting demons and apparitions that were my clanmates that were just... screaming, but we made it. The spirit of the Divine or whatever it was. I think it was like Cole, not a spirit or a human but some strange combination of both. I watched her banish the larger being just beyond the woman that was standing on a stone pedestal surrounded by all the bodies of the elves and people I’d ever known. Before she could hiss another word I shot an arrow straight into her mouth. My companions, all of them, rose from the ground and swarmed us, screeching nonsense and something about my ‘true’ self. I kicked them away and Dorian cleared a path for me to fire off another shot at the banshee that was my Keeper.

She said one last thing, Protect them to kill yourself, and I fired. As the thing vanished, I watched the giant being arise from the depths. It was angry and ready for round two. As we ran, we had to leave behind someone, and that was.... it was the Warden Stroud. Another life that puts more blood on my hands. I told him to go, to cover us for as long as he could. We managed to get to the other side and I sealed away the Nightmare.

But even though it was sealed away, I could still feel its presence like small knives digging into my back. The Wardens were given a chance to salvage whatever they could and report to us. I wondered briefly if there should be a check on the Inquisition too, because we’d probably end up like the Grey Wardens.

When I returned I shut myself into my room and turned over the words. Protect them to kill yourself. It was true, the more I worked to help my friends, my Inner Circle, I found myself fading away. Or maybe it was the old me. The person in my memories was a liar and was somehow fooled by the promise of acceptance with conditions. I still don’t know what this ‘Herald’ me was anymore, but I figured it was better than before. Maybe there’s more than one way to die. I don’t know, maybe it’s all nonsense.

Certainly sounds like the Chantry nonsense they shove down your throat doesn’t it? I laid down on my bed and looked at the small amulet sitting on my nightstand. It was really Dorian’s, but I hadn’t gotten the chance yet to give it to him. I picked it up and looked at it for a while, wondering what it was truly worth.

That was when Dorian entered my room. I held it behind my back and greeted him as I put it into my pocket. He... was wondering if I was okay after all that had happened. I told him if he was okay after saying that I was getting there. He looked distraught at the question. Somehow, the look in his eyes reminded me of the amulet. Perhaps I saw the homesickness there, or maybe I figured that it was about time.

Dorian held it for a long time, I remember. He was confused, he thought that he was indebted to me. I said no, consider it payback for teasing me about my necklace and thought it was fair game. He kissed me, it was sudden and I fell into it but soon enough it because rough. Too rough, the glamour I’d gotten wasn't quite that good. I pushed him away gently.

Dorian looked confused. I wanted to be with him, but not this way. Not yet. He was confused, and explained how things had been at home. I nodded and said I understood. Things back home wouldn’t have let me with anyone really, except who they wanted me to be with. I neglected to say that I wouldn’t have been allowed to be myself or to be with anyone. They weren’t exactly on my side, but they never spoke out against me openly. Perhaps their silence was as condemning as anything they could have said to hurt me.

I wanted this relationship to exist beyond just the physical, and I think Dorian needed this as well. We spent the night in my room, just talking and laughing. Even as I remember the image of my clanmates clawing at me and just screeching, I know that everything isn’t really fixed, but for this moment in time, I suppose that it’s okay to not be completely moved on and yet ready to take the next steps into a new life. Mythal I'm feeling corny today aren't I?


	11. I Don't Understand Orlais

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's to another chapter and the end is in sight!
> 
> Warnings for alcoholism and mentions of abuse.

I woke up at the beginning of the week with nightmares, again. The Nightmare and my own memories twisted my dreams against me, and even though the months that passed since Stroud died have been nothing but sleepless nights and etiquette lessons that I mostly sleep through. I don't understand why anyone would want me at this party, least of all Gaspard. I’m a Dalish elf who is from the Free Marches. I grew up in a tattered dress and with bandages on my feet to keep them from being torn to shreds in the streets of Wycombe.

I think I understand why Dorian is so homesick. Or I understand the manner in which he’s homesick. He misses the feels of home, but doesn’t miss the people there. I miss my clan, but I’d gladly send them into harm’s way to help Wycombe. In many ways, Wycombe was more my home than wherever my clan ended up that day or week. Clan Lavellan stayed close to human cities in the hopes of stealing away some secret mage apostate. The Keeper was desperate and even a half-elf would do.

But instead she found herself without a First and putting more time and effort into finding one than taking care of the clan. Naturally, I avoided it like the plague and stayed as far away from the clan as I could, but even then it wasn’t very far.

Dorian started sleeping in my room after I insisted that he needed something that was an actual bed, but when he offered to sleep in mine I panicked. I keep thinking I should tell him, but put it off. I’m scared to. We didn’t leave that nightmare place all that long ago, and he doesn’t say it but he’s shaken up by what he saw. I am as well, and have to cope with demons of my own. You know, there was a small area we passed in the Fade?

It was a small graveyard with all of my companion’s fears. I haven’t told anyone that I’ve seen it, but the idea of those gravestones disturbs me. They haunt my dreams and my waking hours equally. Even now, I look at the sleeping form of Dorian and all I can think of is seeing his name with the word, ‘Temptation’ written below it.

Vivenne stepped up the lessons and Josephine started telling me how to play The Game with Lelianna dropping by with ‘surprise tests’ that usually resulted in me on the floor after she punched me in the gut for a wrong answer. In retrospect, all these missions seem pointless and useless. I feel like I failed Orlais, but I did what I could.

Going to the ball wasn’t so bad, the entrance had everyone staring and the formal clothes were easy to move in. The hard part was trying to desperately not be called a ‘rabbit’. If any humans I’ve ever met never deserved the slur ‘shemlen’ then these ones earned it and then some. The Shems laughed and giggled at me and my curiosity at recent events.

I learned the alienage of Halamshiral was ‘purged’. Further questions to Lelianna told me more about the fate of the burnt alienage. I can’t say that I hate city elves, but being Dalish to them is strange and a wonderful thing. I knew a few of them, but could never make any friends. They were always gone when I came back. Mostly murdered, but also sometimes they died of whatever sickness had crept into the Alienage while I was gone.

I guess mourning for people I barely knew started to become a regular pastime for me. The lonely Dalish ‘woman’ who went to the Conclave and came out changed forever. Sorry, it’s hard to write linearly when you’re a little drunk. I need to get this down before I have to do it with a hangover.

So I poke around the palace and discover that Orlais is just as bad as everyone says it is. The only one I trusted was Ambassador Briala. Even then, trust is a relative term. The woman was crafty, but she seemed to have the best interests for elves at heart. I unraveled the plot against Celene, the Empress, but I was delayed by Florianne, the Grand Duchess, who attacked me with a bunch of mercenaries and I opened a rift. The rift let through some powerful demons and we were all spent fighting them by the time I met up with Cullen to say to stop the assassination.

Shit, I was too gods damned slow. I should have just left the demons there and run. Then the Empress would be alive and I wouldn’t have even more blood on my hands. I watched the knife slide into Celene’s back as I reached for my bow. Too slow, and now she paid for it. At least Florianne didn’t live much longer, as I sent an arrow through the bitch’s head.

Ha, it made a noble scream and at least that was a highlight of the evening. I then blackmailed Florianne’s brother, Gaspard, the jerk who invited us to the stupid ball, into becoming puppet... is it King in Orlais? No wait, it’s Emperor. Ha, Emperor is a funny spelled word. Emperor.

Right, gotta focus. So, I basically put Briala on the throne. Then I sat out on the balcony -the spicy punch was not alcoholic, alas- and mostly tried not to throw up from the night’s events. The weird witch woman said she was a part of the Inquisition now and I said fine. She’s funny sounding, so I figure I might as well go with it. Also I was kind of out of it with all the craziness of the night.

Then Dorian and I danced on the balcony. I stepped on his toes some, but it was fine. I think we were both just happy to have this quiet moment together. I think I kissed him and just held him tight. I’m not sure but I might have been wrong about the punch. Things get a little more foggy after that, but after we arrived back at Skyhold, I got drunk again. It was completely stupid and irresponsible and I blame Dorian for the ‘private rematch’.

I think I told him I was trans after the third drink. I can’t remember much after that but I suppose now I’m waiting and getting more drunk as the night goes on. Dorian opted to get blackout drunk quickly while I realized I needed to write in the journal. He laughed at me for having a journal before throwing up off the balcony.

Now, I’m sitting here with a bottle on the balcony with a sleeping, drunk Tevinter and writing in this journal in what I hope is legible drunken scrawl. I good as killed the Empress, and even though I know it was her who was responsible for the death of hundreds if not thousands of elves, I find it a bitter victory. At least the... I don’t remember what it is exactly, but it helps. It numbs the emotions down and stuffs them into the bottom of the bottle. I’ve forgotten about the Fade, mostly and now Orlais is a fading memory.

A toast to an Empress who deserved to have a better Inquisitor than I save her.

(spilled wine stains the corner of the page)

 

He doesn’t hear it. A thousand quiet toasts across Orlais. They are made to honor the fallen and to remember their faces. A lot of the faces are children. I didn't have time to heal their hurt, but the servants there know something will change, and now they are waiting to hear from the Elven Empress. Shadows will bring them to the light, but the skeletons in his closet haunt him. They reach out with bony fingers and grab him by the throat. He doesn’t want this anymore, he says, so he drowns in a bottle and waits for the morning after to wash him away completely.


	12. Sense of Loss

It’s a bad habit of mine to expect things to be completely undone because I was involved. That somehow it’s all my fault for what has happened. The loss of Minaeve, the soldiers, Celene, and now I suspect Calpernia. I thought I was helping her. Saving her from Corypheus. The scouts said they found her body after the fighting died down and it appeared that the Sentinels had left. Not only had I failed the Inquisition, I failed the People as well. All that knowledge given to a Shemlen. Morrigan was human, and try as I might, I keep wishing I had stepped in instead. But... when Cole said that the voices would drown out my own, I became scared.

I let go of everything that the People had been and let it all fade away. I let it rot in the temple and I met Mythal. Makes me wonder if there was ever anything that we had gotten right about who we had been. The temple was beautiful beyond description, but I wondered how much more beautiful it would have been in the days it was used.

I feel... like I’m letting go of everything I ever thought I was. A Dalish made into just another arm of the Chantry. It’s funny, yesterday I said ‘by the Maker’ out of nowhere. I can’t even remember what it was like to pray to Dirthamen or to Mythal. And now that I’ve met Mythal I doubt that they hear us now. 

I even asked and she said that it fell on deaf ears. Well, she said that she heard them and she did nothing. What if all the Gods were just people who were just slightly different from the rest? Already my name has replaced the Maker’s on my army’s lips. Heh, ‘my army’. I had hoped that this would end as soon as The Breach was sealed but instead I’m now at war with a darkspawn. I’m not a Grey Warden, and I’ve seen the Grey Wardens fall to this darkspawn’s influence. I’m the general of a war and in the first few months of said war I fell face first into a godsdamned bear.

I find drinking helps to wash out the pain from The Anchor and just fighting for so long. So far, I’ve spent several nights drunk and some mornings still drunk. Josephine disapproves but if she’d seen the loss that I’ve been forced to endure, walked into empty homes with claw marks on the walls... I think that she would join me. I want it over. I want to stop fighting and I want to go back to being a knife-ear that didn’t matter to anyone except my clan and a few city elves.

Wycombe is gone. A majority of the people ruling it have died or been killed because of red lyrium poisoning, and a lot of city elves were blamed because of it. I saved a lot of them, but it was a close thing. Wycombe will never be the same because I lived there. Maybe I ruin everything I touch, and maybe my Keeper was right. I’m nothing without the people behind me. A mess of issues and the wrong ideas about justice and truth.

I keep waiting to be proven wrong but... when even the Gods I thought could do anything are just human, what does that mean for the rest of us?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's not longer, but the Well of Sorrows mission has always felt... well kinda empty to me. Since we're gearing up for the endgame, it's best that I make it short and then play the end.


	13. I Changed The World Somehow

Here we are, three years later and I’m staring out into the distance. I fought Corypheus and won. I lost Solas, but I got the feeling he would leave anyway. Everything is... better. At my insistence I crafted the Templars into something better, I turned them into the Inquisition again and soon we’re going to have to lay down our banner to be something else. Like the old Inquisition did, but when that happens who will be my side?

Lelianna is going to be the Divine, I trust her now gentle hand. Dorian’s going back to Tevinter to try and fix things on his own, and he doesn’t want me to meddle and wants all the credit for his work. Cassandra is going to be hard at work in the Chantry... and people just keep leaving to find their way. Sera and Bull are staying behind, they are wanderers anyway, but I’m glad I have them by my side still.

Vivienne says that she’s staying, because someone has to remind me to wear shoes to meet the various dignitaries. Varric’s going back to Kirkwall, and I’m pretty sure Hawke is still at Weishaupt. Cole... nobody can ever tell what Cole is going to do next, but he said that he wants to help people still, and Skyhold was the one holding up the sky or something. I believe him, because some days I still see the Fade bleed through into my every day. I see fantastic sights and historic places as I walk.

It’s The Anchor’s fault and I know it. It was supposed to keep me in reality but it’s a thing from the Fade. Maybe soon I will be too. All I know is that with every rift I seal I spent more and more time sleeping afterward. It wasn't so bad, but the pain just kept driving me to exhaustion. I don’t think that it’ll kill me, but The Veil is trying to correct itself after so many holes. I take to mean that my work is closer and closer to done.

The world is changing around me, and every time I seal a rift and train Templars the right way, I take more power from the Chantry. I’ve told no one my true goals, and they’ve only recently come to me, but I’m going to bite the hand that feeds corruption in this world. I’m going to train the Templars, I’m going to keep the Circles destroyed, and with Lelianna wanting to change the Chantry they’re not going to be stable anymore.

The Templars won’t be leashed like Cullen was, and the Mages will no longer be oppessed. Elves everywhere will now have a voice, and I put Briala in a place to guarantee this. I wield so much power now, though. I’m worried that the Inquisition will become the new Chantry, so I’m going to promise nothing but acceptance for everyone. Mages, Templars, Trans People, Elves, Tevinters, because I can’t allow the sacrifices of so many be unpaid for.

I’m going to miss Dorian though. There were moments where I would want to exercise my power and hurt someone, but I thought of what he’d said about the Magistrates in Tevinter. No. Never again. Now though, he’s facing his own demons and they aren’t all literal. He’s already said goodbye, and I watched him go for as long as I could. Elf eyes may be bragged about, but it felt all too short as I watched him vanish into the horizon. Maybe I miss that heretical historian already.

Another game of Wicked Grace happened, but Dorian was absent. I won, for once. I think Josephine knew that I needed a win, but I think I just know how to push her buttons now. Everything has come a long way from the beginning of this story.

Varric’s threatened to steal my journals for notes when he writes about me. Haven’t caught him yet but he’s been talking to Sera and I know she’s still reading them. I keep finding doodles of inappropriate things on the edges of the pages. I guess I could say yes, just to know what Varric thinks of my terrible writing. I may write it myself.

Nah, I can never remember what I said at any time during the time I was the Herald. I don’t know if I want him to know that I had no idea what I was doing the whole time, nor do I want the world to know that either. I don’t want them to know about Therinfall’s true tale. Sometimes I still hear the Envy demon’s words on the wind as it crosses the mountains to whatever next place they land. I wonder if I could be a nomad now, but enough people have seen me that I doubt I could get away with it.

So I guess I’ll stay on course. Not much choice in this is there? The next fight is the Chantry, but I suppose I can rest a while on my laurels, let myself be just another tired soldier after a war. Most go home though, and Wycombe...

My Keeper has sent me many letters, all sickly sweet and dripping with manipulation. I throw them out when I get them, because they still call me ‘she’. I saved the world and I’m not I’ve always been in her eyes. I know I shouldn’t want her appreciation or her kindness, but still I want it. I want to hear that I’m the best of her clan and that I did the best job with the skills she gave me. I want to please her as myself.

Wycombe is gone too, they destroyed most of the alienage. A lot of elves sent me letters telling me that my friends there had died, but I felt nothing. I was numb to the pain of more loss and suffering.

I find myself watching the sunset now and wondering what will be left of me in the time to come. I think my old self died in Haven with the avalanche. I’m so tired of fighting, but I think that I have many places to go before I sleep and things to fix before I rest.

I suppose that since this is the last page of the beaten old book I’d been using as a journal that it’s only fitting that it contains the last chapter of fighting The Breach and Corypheus. I wonder if I’ve always been fighting...

But I suppose this is goodbye to this ratty old journal. Josephine will want something better and probably with a better cover for me to write what happens next. I think I will have Varric have this journal for notes. I want everyone to know now, now that the fighting is over and things are good. I want my friends to know who I am and what I stood for back then, even if I do become as corrupt as the Chantry.

I suppose this is goodbye, whoever reads this in the days to come. Goodbye, and I pray that Ghilan'nain guides our paths so that they may cross again. May Fen’Harel never catch your scent and Mythal protect us to the best of her ability. Maker guide our paths that they may be light, and Andraste watch over us. Wherever all these gods or people or whatever they are now, may they walk me and you on a path of light.

(Tear stains dot the page and smear the ink in many places)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you had as much fun as I did with this series. Thank you for all the comments and kudos and reblogs. I never really expected much of any praise or anyone to read it and I realized how much I missed writing FanFiction and writing in general. So, once again, thank you all for the support for the series.


End file.
